Thief
by RRP
Summary: What if not everyone in the House of Elrond loved the human Estel? No slash. Set during Aragorn and Arwen's wedding, from Elrohir's POV. Does not contain child abuse. RR.


Disclaimer: I don't own them.

A/N: Book-verse. I was scouring the books for some details and came upon a certain passage, which is below. I'm a huge Elrohir and Elrond fan, so I'm not quite sure how this happened. I have nothing against Estel, really. But the way Elrohir said "my father" and not "our father" made me wonder if there could be something other than the accepted storyline in which the twins and Estel get along. This is simply a piece exploring this. Entirely inspired by that sole passage, and I realized it aligned with the chorus of one of my favorite songs, only _after_ I wrote it. So I put that chorus at the end. Please review and tell me what you think! I don't like flames, but honest well-written criticism is accepted.

Thief

by RRP__

_"...and when they had spoken of tidings in the North and in the South, Elrohir said to him: 'I bring word from my father: _The days are short. If thou art in haste, remember the Paths of the Dead._'"_

– _Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King_, _Chapter 2: Passing of the Gray Company_

J.R.R. Tolkien__

There is a hollow ringing in my ears as I hear the final vows of wedlock exchanged. It takes all my self-control not to wince as they kiss, long and hard. I glance over at Ada, and then Elladan– both are wearing forced, grim smiles.

He came to me earlier in the morning, as quiet and cautious as ever, and asked it:

_Will you forgive me, Elrohir? For loving her?_

Do you have to ask, Estel? Must you remind me?

I could not. He stole my sister, completely and irreversibly. Now when the wind blows and presses against the fair light of the Evenstar, even I will not be able to protect her. And he will not stand against the tide forever. He is a mortal, a stupid handful of breathing dust that will perish.

And she gives herself to him. So freely, so utterly...

She _trusts_ him.

I hate him.

I hate what he can do to me.

I look at him, with Arwen, with Ada– and I am jealous. For that brief raw moment when his eyes meet mine, I am selfish. And I am wrong.

The first time I saw him, he was fourteen. And I hardly knew him then, I had only heard of him. I gave him a chance, and he shattered it completely. I had hoped for a kinship with him– his Amme was lost to him, as was mine.

But he stole Ada.

Elladan and I came back from another long hunt in the North, exhausted from our struggles. Elladan went to bathe, and I began searching for Ada, to tell him we had returned. He had not met us at the gate, as he usually did, and it worried me.

Then I found why.

He was helping his beloved Estel with sword practice, laughing and smiling. His laugh had been dead since Amme went away, and yet a small human had managed to revive it.

Glorfindel taught Elladan and I how to fight– Ada had been too busy.

And I loathed him, for having what I could not.

But he never knew.

He stole so much, yet he thinks he took so little.

"Elrohir," I hear Elladan's voice in my ear, as he nudges me. I blink out of my reverie, and see him standing in front of me.

Estel. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Elessar, King of Gondor.

Husband of Arwen Undomiel. Evenstar. My little sister.

"Elrohir, brother–"

"Thief." I cut him off. I wonder where it came from, knowing it to be my own voice. Anger, all the pain from years of hating him, wells up inside of me and drives me forward. The crowd gasps collectively, and I can feel Ada's shock rolling off him in waves. From Elladan, only pity. Perhaps understanding.

"What?" Estel's eyes are suddenly full of hurt and confusion. He glances to Ada, _my_ Ada.

"Thief." I repeat in a lethally quiet tone. "Tis all you have ever been."

As I turn to stride away, I catch Ada's eyes.

Accusation. Wrath. _Hate_.

I know they will not forgive me, for ruining their day. I will not forgive them, for ruining my life.

For a glorious second, I finally feel free. Released.

But when it passes, I still stand in a crowd of souls that could never, ever understand.

And I still hate him.

"I am sorry, Elrohir."

The whisper catches my ears as I walk away, and I whirl. The crowd is backing away, forming a clear path between the two of us. Even Ada steps back.

"For what?" I demand bitterly, selfishly.

"For being where you wanted to be."

And then I know that he understands. He knows what he took.

There is so much guilt in those blue eyes, and I know it is mirrored in my own.

"I cannot forgive you," I whisper honestly, forgetting that half of Gondor is watching.

"I do not expect you to. I took too much."

He walks away, leaving me with a haunted resentment.

Estel is right. He is always right.

I am selfish. But I am vindicated.

And he is a thief.

_I am vindicated_

_I am selfish, I am wrong_

_I am right, I swear I'm right_

_I swear I knew it all along_

_And I am flawed_

_But I am cleaning up so well_

_I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself_

_– "Vindicated" by Dashboard Confessional _


End file.
